The Sunfire (19 page)

Twisting his head slightly, Jon could make out a short,
balding man, in a jumpsuit, with a pulse pistol firmly in his hand, pointing
unwaveringly at him.

“You the Captain?” Jon wheezed, still trying to catch his
breath from the earlier fight and subsequent mad dash to the bridge.

“That's right and who the fuck are you?”

“I’m from docking facilities, come to talk to you about some
unpaid docking fees?” Jon inquired, even to him the explanation sounded
pitifully weak.

“I’ve paid all the docking fees. In advance.”

“Oh,” Jon replied, deflated. The cover story had helped him
this far.

“You stay right where you are. On your knees. Hands behind
your head,” the Captain ordered.

Jon could hear the whine, as the pulse pistol was adjusted
to full power.

“Last chance, moron,” the Captain insisted. “Tell me who you
are and why you are here, otherwise I’ll shoot you here and now.”

Jon desperately looked for a way out of the predicament, but
there was nothing within reach and even if he could find something to use, the
Captain was too far away. Thinking desperately to try and stall for time Jon
stated. “I came with a business offer, I really need to hire a freighter. I can
pay.”

“Wrong answer,” the Captain interrupted him, tightening his
finger on the trigger.

Jon heard the sound of the pistol discharging and waited for
the agonising pain to engulf him but nothing came. Jon hesitantly cast a glance
over his shoulder, to see the Captain trembling on the floor, his body still
jolting from being hit by the stun weapon. Casting his eyes above the body Jon
could clearly see Miranda standing behind him, her weapon still pointing at the
man.

“Thanks,” Jon said stumbling to his feet, shooting her a
grin. “I owe you. That is the second time now you have saved my life.”

Miranda just rolled her eyes, taking a step forward, staring
at the immobilised Captain. “I was not aware that we were keeping score?”

“Sure we are,” Jon flirted back. “I like to keep a running
count. To know how much I owe you.”

“So how are you going to pay me back?”

Jon looked at Miranda from head-to-toe, admiring her figure
in the tight body-hugging black flight suit she wore, and with a broad grin he
replied. “I’ll think of something.”

Miranda just rolled her eyes again, before nudging the
unconscious body at her feet. “Is this who we are looking for?”

“I think so,” he replied. Looking around for something to
use to restrain the Captain.

A moment later Gunny stuck his head through the hatch,
casting his eye professionally around the bridge to ensure that it was secured,
with nobody else hiding in the shadows. “The ship is secure, Commander.”

“Thanks Gunny. Oh, and Gunny?” Jon added before the other
man could disappear back into the bowls of the ship.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for not waiting for my signal.”

“No problem Commander. The Captain warned me about you
pulling a
John Rambo
,” Gunny announced each word carefully to ensure the
correct pronunciation.

Jon only laughed, recognising the name from one of the old
20
^th
Century action films Paul and he watched occasionally. They
avoided Sci-Fi films as it reminded them both too much of work.

*****

“You find anything Jason?” Jon inquired several hours later
after the Captain and crew had been checked by the medical team and then
restrained.

“It’s not here, Commander,” Jason replied resignedly. “I’ve
gone over the ship’s main computer twice and any other portable storage devices
that we could find. The authorisation codes are not there assuming, of course,
they even exist.”

“They exist, I am sure of it,” Jon replied confidently. “An
operation like the Tyrell Corporation would not have lasted so long and
certainly not maintained the secrecy that it obviously does, without some form
of two-factor authorisation. Looks like we are going with Plan B.”

“The Captain?” Jason surmised.

“The Captain,” Jon confirmed. “Come on Gunny, time for some
good cop, bad cop routine, with a little added twist.”

*****

To say the freighter Captain was livid would be an
understatement. Restrained in a chair in his personal quarters, his face was
completely red and the profanity coming out from his mouth would make a
seasoned sailor blush. Jon just took a seat opposite and let the Captain run
out of curses for him. It took quite some time and by the end even Jon had some
respect for the diverse variety the Captain used. However, finally he fell
silent, just glaring at the Commander, with his eyes occasionally turning to
Gunny who stood immobile beside him.

“We need to borrow your ship for a couple of days Captain,”
Jon started off with friendly banter.

“Over my dead body,” the Captain replied, venomously.

“Captain Johansson? Did I pronounce that correctly?” Jon
asked, glancing at a datapad Jason had supplied him moments before.

Johansson did not reply, just continued to stare daggers at
him.

“Well really, there is not much you can do to stop us taking
your ship. Especially considering your current predicament,” Jon motioned
towards the restraints, confining him to the chair.

Johansson just cursed again.

“No, my mother is perfectly fine and I am confident in my
heritage,” Jon replied mildly, before snapping his fingers. “However, there is
one other thing that I need. The two-factor authorisation codes to get me past
the orbital defences around Tartarus.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I’m sure that you do.”

“Just assuming I know what you are talking about, I couldn’t
give them to you. I would be a dead man walking. Sejanus would kill me.”

“We’ll kill you if you don’t give them to us,” growled
Gunny, his hand ready on the heavy pistol at his side.

“You see,” Jon continued in a reasonable tone of voice. “I
don’t think you understand the severity of the predicament you currently find
yourself in.”

“Sejanus will kill me if I give you the codes, your thug
here will kill me if I don’t. And you say that I do not understand the gravity
of the situation?”

Jon nodded his head happily in confirmation. “It is far, far
worse.”

Johansson was completely agog. “It’s worse? How?” He
muttered hoarsely.

“You see, some eccentric, rich, lunatic
—
that's
me by the way—” Jon clarified, “Transferred thirteen million credits into your
personal account a few minutes ago.”

Johansson looked first at Jon then Gunny with wild eyes.
“You’re crazy, you’re both crazy,” he spluttered.

“No, not at all. No need to take my word for it, check it
yourself.” Jon tossed the Captain one of his datapads. Looking at them
suspiciously but unable to see the harm, he accessed his on-line account from
the device. Turning a deathly shade of pale, he could only stare at the balance
in complete and abject horror.

“So now you fully understand your predicament, there is
another option open to us. I could just release you and your ship to return to
Tartarus, where you will have to explain to Sejanus how a crazily rich,
eccentric lunatic forced his way onto your ship, gave you thirteen million
credits at gunpoint and then let you go without wanting anything in return.
Good luck with that story by the way.” Jon laughed.

Johansson once again glanced between the two men, but this
time something else appeared in his eyes
—
greed. “What do
you want in return?” He asked, licking his lips.

“The authorisation codes needed for docking control of
Tartarus,” Jon replied promptly.

“And what of me and my crew?”

“You will remain on the station here as our guests for the
next couple of days, to ensure you have given us the correct codes and to stop
you warning Sejanus. At the end of the week you will all be free to go your
separate ways.”

“And my reward?”

“That stays between us. I will leave it up to you what you
want to tell your crew,” Jon replied choosing his words carefully.

Johansson looked once more at the account balance
prominently displayed on the device, before turning to the two men in front of
him, paying particular attention to the weapons at their waist, and making his
decision.

*****

“We have obtained the necessary clearance codes to allow us
past the orbital defences and onto the landing pad that has already been
assigned to the
Phoenix
. We also have a basic layout of the facility, at
least the parts accessible to the civilian crew,” Jon reported to Paul via the
communications console.

“So I take it you managed to convince the freighter
Captain?”

“He sung like a canary, especially when he saw his bank
balance.”

“I still don’t like giving such vast sums of money away like
that,” Paul frowned.

Jon simply laughed. “I’m sure that Marcus will pay us back
if we get him off Tartarus alive,” he said. “And if we don’t, then we cannot
take the money into the next life with us.”

“So when you are planning on departing?”

“We are ready to leave now. As Gunny’s team have just
finished loading the last of the equipment,” Jon said. “However, the flight
plan already filed by Johansson stipulates that we depart tomorrow. We will
stick to his flight plan to avoid raising suspicion. A day’s delay will not
hurt us. What is the status of the
Sunfire
?”

“We are at full combat readiness,” Paul replied. “We will be
there at the agreed time.” He added earnestly.

“I never doubted it for a second. You take care my friend.”

“You too,” Paul replied. “We will see you in three days.”

Just as Jon closed the communication console, the doors to
the Captain’s private quarters chimed, notifying him that his guests had
arrived. “Come,” he called.

The doors slid open to reveal Gunny with Miranda in tow. “I
love civilian freighters,” Gunny chortled, waving a bottle of Scotch in the
air.

Jon smiled, finding a couple of grimy glasses in the
Captain’s quarters, which he polished against his uniform, before settling them
on a small table.

Gunny poured a generous helping into each glass, before
raising his glass in toast. “To a successful operation and the safe return of
the boss,” Gunny exclaimed, as the glasses clinked together.

“Is this a good idea?” Miranda asked warily, motioning
towards the bottle. “Considering where we are going tomorrow?”

“One glass is safe enough. Anyway it is a good luck
tradition and we could do with all the luck that we can get. Are we keeping you
from something Gunny?” Jon inquired with a knowing smile, observing Gunny
glancing at the chronometer in the cabin.

“Uh, no, nothing,” Gunny replied turning an interesting
shade of pink. “Get going Gunny,” Jon ordered. “Otherwise you will miss your
call with Lieutenant Castle.”

“How did you know?” Gunny exclaimed in disbelief.

“One of my many skills, Gunny. Now go, get. Before you are
too late,” Jon shooed the marine out of his quarters.

“So clairvoyance
is
one of your skills?” Miranda
asked with a grin.

“Hardly,” Jon replied returning the smile. “I just finished
talking to Paul and he asked me to authorise the transmission, as technically
the
Sunfire
is maintaining communication silence.”

“So Gunny and Lieutenant Castle? I would never have
guessed.”

“I believe it started with the monster in the wardrobe
incident,” Jon laughed.

“Monster in the wardrobe?” Miranda asked confused.

“You don’t know the story?” Jon looked surprised. Miranda
shook her head. “Well I guess it was a couple of months before you arrived.”

“So what happened?”

Jon shrugged and explained, “Castle has a young daughter,
Elizabeth, about six years old. Do you know her?”

Miranda nodded.

“Well Castle’s husband was a navy pilot, he was killed a
couple of years back in one of the last fleet engagements before the Imperial
Navy was disbanded. She has brought up her daughter on her own ever since.”

“So who is looking after her now?” Miranda quickly asked.

Jon frowned at being interrupted. “She is staying with Carol
and the kids, until Castle gets back. Anyway, back to the story,” Jon glared.
“Elizabeth would not settle one night, insisting there was a monster in her
wardrobe. Castle had just finished a double shift and was at her wit’s end, so
in desperation she called security and asked if they could send somebody to
reassure her daughter there was no monster in the wardrobe.”

“I assume Gunny was on duty?” Miranda guessed.

Jon nodded and continued the story. “When Gunny arrived and
Castle explained the situation to him, he strode into Elizabeth’s bedroom.”

“What’s the problem ma’am?” Gunny inquired.

“There is a monster in the wardrobe,” little Elizabeth
cried, hiding under her blanket. “I saw him when I was getting into bed.”

“I understand ma’am, please leave this to me,” Gunny
replied, turning to face the wardrobe. “Unauthorised monster,” Gunny announced
loudly. “You have the count of three to vacate the wardrobe, otherwise I will
use lethal force.”

“One.”

“Two.”

Gunny drew his pulse pistol from its holster, pointing it
towards the wardrobe.

“Gunny!” Castle interrupted alarmed.

“Ma’am, please cover your ears,” Gunny instructed the
little girl cowering under the blanket who, looking up with wide-eyed
fascination, did as the officer instructed.

“Three,” Gunny announced.

“He didn’t,” Miranda interrupted disbelievingly.

“He sure did,” Jon replied with a smug grin. “He put three bolts
from his pulse pistol straight though the wardrobe.”

“What did Castle say?”